


Where's My Car?

by nomave



Category: due South
Genre: Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-08
Updated: 2012-09-08
Packaged: 2017-11-13 19:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomave/pseuds/nomave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story was written in response to the common complaint that during 'Call of the Wild' RayV never asks about the whereabouts of his beloved Buick Riviera. Here's my idea of how Fraser and RayK handled telling him of its destruction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where's My Car?

Ray Vecchio walked out of Welsh’s office followed closely by Fraser and Kowalski, with Welsh bringing up the rear. The Lieutenant clapped Ray on the back, “It’s good to have you back.”  
“Thanks, sir,” Vecchio responded, before turning to his best friend, and the man who had pretended to be him for the last year, “So, I noticed you weren’t driving the Riv – hope my baby’s been treating you well?”  
Kowalski started shifting from one foot to another, and suddenly found the sight of his shoes very interesting, “Erm, yeah, yeah, it treated me really, really... well...yeah.”  
Welsh coughed, “Um, I have to go and, uh, make a phone call....” he improvised, retreating quickly into his office.  
Huey and Dewey, who had overheard the little scene, both suddenly stood up from their desks.  
“You got that report for Welsh, Jack?”  
Huey shuffled some papers on his desk, “Yeah, I was just going to take it to him...”  
“Good...we should do that.”  
The pair scurried into their boss’ office. A couple of other detectives in the squad room suddenly decided they had urgent business in the canteen.   
“So how come you’re not driving her?” Vecchio asked, barely noticing the sudden exodus, “I was told that had to be part of the cover?”  
Kowalski continued his detailed examination of the scuff marks on his boots, “Oh yeah, yeah, it was, but then, well, we thought...that is, something....err...”  
Frannie tried to distract Vecchio’s attention, “Hey big brother, you’ll have to get used to people not being at your beth and call all the time now you’re back home.”  
“I believe you’ll find that’s ‘beck and call’, Francesca,” Fraser inevitably interceded.  
The ruse wasn’t fooling Vecchio. He was now very aware that people were trying to avoid the subject of the car. “What happened to the Riv?” he asked Fraser and Kowalski quietly.  
“I think I need to do some filing.” Frannie darted away and out of the room, without stopping to pick up anything resembling paperwork.  
“Kowalski?” Vecchio’s tone made it clear that an explanation had better be forthcoming.  
“Well, you see, um...” Kowalski grappled with finding a nice way to tell Vecchio that his beloved car had been booby-trapped by a performance arsonist and had been driven, in flames, into the Lake they call Michigan. Then he had sudden inspiration, “I think Fraser is the best person to tell you...I gotta...go.” He practically ran from the room, almost slamming into Francesca, who was listening outside the door.  
“Fraser,” Vecchio was now sounding icy calm. He stared pointedly at the obviously anxious Mountie, “You want to tell me what you did to my car?”  
“Well, strictly speaking, Ray, I personally didn’t do anything to your car...”  
“Fraser!” Ray barked.  
Fraser drew a deep breath.

“I can’t hear what they’re saying,” Frannie complained, “Has he told him yet?”  
“If he has, he’s taking it much better than I thought...” Kowalski tried to get his eye to the gap between the two doors, “So probably not.”

“What’s going on?” Dewey asked, as Welsh and Huey peered through the venetian blinds on the internal window’s of Welsh’s office. 

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!” It came out as a wail, and was followed by a figure in red fleeing through the squad room doors.   
It was one of the few times during their acquaintance that Kowalski had seen the Mountie look flustered. “You told him then,” he deduced.  
Fraser nodded quickly.  
“He wasn’t happy, huh?”  
Fraser shook his head.  
“So you want to get some lunch?”  
Fraser nodded again.  
Kowalski put his arm around Fraser’s shoulder, “Come on,” he said, “You’ve been through a lot today. We’ll get you a nice stiff cup of that bark tea stuff and that’ll make you feel better.”  
They walked off, trying to ignore the sound of sobbing coming from the squad room.


End file.
